


Bull Leaper

by vix_spes



Category: Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Mænd & høns | Men & Chicken (2015), The King Must Die Series - Mary Renault, The Path (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BabyBullFest, Bull Leaping, Bull dancing, ChickenPath, First Time, Hannibal Extended Universe, Inspired by Mary Renault, Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Minoan, Minotaur - Freeform, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Oral Sex, Premature Ejaculation, Sexual exploration, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: When a rumour swirls that King Theseus didn't kill the Minotaur when he left Crete, Cal sees an opportunity to gain the power and glory that he claims by killing the creature himself.Only, when he arrives in Crete, the Minotaur - that fabled beast of legend - isn't exactly what he envisaged...





	1. Chapter 1

 

Cal watched the incoming ship with interest as it cut swiftly through the Aegean Sea on its final approach to Athens. Unless he was very much mistaken – and he knew he wasn’t – then that was a Cretan ship. One that should not be in the waters surrounding Athens at this precise moment in time. Were it this time in any of the preceding years, then Cal would have known precisely why it was here. But if King Theseus had killed the minotaur – as he claimed – then why had a Cretan ship appeared in Athens at the same time that it usually came to collect the Athenian tribute? Clearly, something was going on.

Whatever it was, the Cretans had picked their time perfectly. King Theseus was out of the city – some rumoured with the Amazon queen Hippolyta – and unable to defend his story. Unsurprisingly, the sails hadn’t gone unnoticed, and by the time that Cal made it down to the harbour, quite the crowd had gathered, unhappy mutterings already spreading throughout the crowd. The Athenians had lived through years of tributes to the Cretans and, with the return of King Theseus – who had done the unthinkable and had returned home after having served as tribute – they had hoped that those years were at an end, that no more young men and women would be sacrificed.

Spotting familiar faces, Cal threaded his way through the crowd until he was stood next to Sirena and Eladio. The three of them had grown up together and Cal had thought, once upon a time, that he and Sirena might end up together. In the last few years, Sirena and Eladio had grown closer and Cal knew, without a doubt, that the two of them would end up married in the not so distant future. While Sirena was not of royal blood, she was high-born and thus was a suitable marriage prospect for either Cal or Eladio.

“Where’s Stephanos?”

“He was at the palace when we saw the sails of the ship. He’ll be here soon though.”

Stephanos was the father of both Cal and Eladio. Himself the bastard son of King Nisus of Megara, Stephanos had fathered both of his sons upon women that he wasn’t married to. When King Minos of Crete had besieged Megara in revenge for the death of his beloved son Androgeus, Stephanos had fled to Athens with his whores and his sons, taking refuge with his relative Aegeus. There, they had found favour within the court and both Cal and Eladio had had an upbringing as befitted their royal blood. Which son Stephanos favoured seemed to depend upon the mood that he was in and neither of them could be certain as to which one of them would end up as his heir.

If he was being honest, in his heart of hearts, Cal knew that Eladio would be the one who would be chosen to be the heir. Things weren’t always easy between Cal and Stephanos, between Cal and anybody in Athens. He constantly felt like he was an outsider, as though he didn’t belong in Athens. That hadn’t changed when Aegeus had killed himself and Theseus had taken his father’s place on the Athenian throne. Cal knew that, if he wanted to make a name and a life for himself, then he would have to do so away from Athens.

Cal was jolted from his thoughts as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Eladio’s simultaneously.

“Eladio. Calixtus.”

“Father.”

Stephanos looked at the ship that had nearly docked in the harbour. “The sentries were right; it’s a Cretan ship then.”

“Why do you think they’re here?”

“What other reason would the Cretans have for being here? Tribute.”

“But King Theseus killed the beast in the labyrinth.”

“King Theseus claimed to have killed the minotaur. There is no proof as to his claims. And strange how those who could verify his story – the Princess Ariadne and his fellow tributes – were either left on Dia or are away with him now. Who knows what truly happened beneath the palace at Knossos.”

Even as Cal’s father spoke, Cal was thinking. Perhaps this was it, the opportunity that he had been waiting for. The opportunity to make a name for himself. If, as he thought, that Stephanos chose Eladio as his heir, then Cal would need some way to bring himself to prominence and, what better way than doing what King Theseus couldn’t do. Apparently.

Kill the Minotaur.

As expected, when they docked, the Cretan soldiers claimed that they came at the behest of King Deucalion to collect the Athenian tribute for the minotaur. They had been greeted by silence from the Athenians. With Theseus away, what was there that people could say in opposition? Those that were ruling in his place could object, but they couldn’t stop the people of Athens from being taken. This was a blood debt. Blood for blood. The youths of Athens for the slain prince of Crete. Who but Kings – or the Gods themselves – could cancel the debt?

As the Cretan soldiers stood impassive, the youths of Athens were rounded up at the harbourside like cattle at market. A few braver – more desperate – parents spirited their offspring away into the dark of the small alleys that led away from the sea and up towards the palace. A wailing had already started up from the women whose children were of an age to be considered tribute. By silent mutual agreement, Cal and Eladio moved so that they were acting as a human shield for Sirena. If King Theseus were here and the lottery was run, their actions would be useless, but it seemed that these men did not care for fairness; they were simply pulling people from the throng at random. All of those that were being chosen – at least the females – were young and virginal. Indeed, some of them were little more than children. Where the men were concerned, they were selecting the ones with smaller builds, lithe frames.

To the relief of both Cal and Eladio, the quota of women was reached without the Cretans spotting or selecting Sirena. Their relief was short-lived however, as a hand clamped down on Eladio’s wrist and started to pull him from the crowd. This was it. Cal’s opportunity. He only had a short window of time – mere seconds – to make his decision.

Did he let Eladio go to Crete and hope to take his place both in the affections of their father and Sirena? Or did Cal take his place and go to Crete, in an attempt to make his name and exceed that of Theseus himself, son of Poseidon. There wasn’t really a decision to make. Cal knew that he wanted more than marriage to a high-born woman. He wanted power and glory. He wanted to be someone that the bards sang about, that people aspired to be. He wanted to rise himself above mere mortals, to be the equal of the demi-gods. He wanted to be heralded and feted. As Heracles and Jason, as Achilles and Theseus. Cal wouldn’t get that if he remained behind in Athens. If he remained in Athens, then he would never be more than Stephanos’ other son and that wasn’t good enough for Cal.

His decision was made.

Stepping forward, Cal angled himself so that he was in between the Cretan and Eladio, breaking the grasp that the soldier had on his brother.

“Take me instead.”

Cal knew that it was a gamble. He didn’t have the same build as the other youths that had already been chosen and was several years older than them as well. Yet, he was clearly still in his prime. He was strong, athletic and, more importantly, he was volunteering to be taken. The Cretans were clearly taken aback. This was precisely what King Theseus had done; offered himself up in place of one of his fellow Athenians. All around Cal was a horrified silence. And then, quietly, a cheer went up that grew in volume until it was deafening. Setting his chin stubbornly, Cal met the gaze of the Cretan captain defiantly, waiting for the man to say something. The wait was almost interminable. Finally, he nodded, and Cal’s fate was sealed.

Turning, Cal was more than a little taken aback by the look of pride on Stephanos’ face. He couldn’t really remember ever having seen it before. Maybe he would never see it again. The facial expressions of both Eladio and Sirena were at opposite ends of the spectrum and slightly harder to decipher, at least for Eladio. Sirena’s face was clearly writ with worry for Cal, as well as surprise at his actions. Eladio, well. It looked as though some of it was jealousy, some of it anger and, well, who knew what else.

Cal didn’t have any more time to work it out though. An embrace from Sirena, a clasp of arms from Stephanos and, after a long awkward wait, Eladio then Cal was being ushered towards the waiting ship. He tried not to compare the stoic, almost disinterested response of his family to the emotional farewells going on around him, staring resolutely ahead, even as the Cretan soldiers resorted to pulling some of the girls from their mothers’ arms. He was not permitted to take anything with him, no weapons, just the small bundle of food that a woman pressed into his hands.

The Cretans wasted no time and, given the favourable winds, it was no time at all that they were on the open sea. Cal stood at the prow and looked out over the vast blue expanse.

Athens lay behind him.

Crete – and glory – lay ahead.

~*~

Crete was not what Cal – nor any of the other tributes – were expecting. What would happen to them when they arrived on Crete had been the main topic of conversation onboard ship and given that they were something of a motley crew – Eleusians, Acharnians, a pair of siblings from Marathon and a girl from Thoricus as well as Athenians – they all had different tales to tell of the minotaur and what would happen to them once they arrived. Some told of a bull, others a monster who was half-man, half-beast while others still claimed that they would be tossed to the beast as its next meal, unwilling sacrifices to satiate its desires for human flesh.

To their surprise, none of them proved to be true. They were taken to the impressive House of the Axe – the royal palace at Knossos – but they weren’t tossed into the labyrinth to face the beast. Instead, they were taken to the famous Bull Court of Knossos. They were to be trained as bull-leapers, risking their lives for the entertainment of the Cretan court. Once upon a time, it had been a Cretan pastime and all had done it, high and low-born alike. Now, they brought slaves in to dance. As well as those who had come from Attica, there were others who looked like they had come from Corinth, from Scythians, several girls who had the look of Amazons and even Phoenicians.

The Bull Court was a city of its own within the House of the Axe. The boys and girls selected to be bull-leapers spent all of their time there. They trained, ate and slept in the Bull Court. At night, the boys were permitted to leave the confines, but the girls were locked away and guarded by priestesses. Cal found the double-standard intriguing but given how Cretan society was built upon goddess worship - unlike Athens - he didn't question it. Besides, they were hardly badly treated. After the royal court itself, the bull-dancers got the best food and drink on offer and a woman to treat their injuries.

Every day, they were trained in the dance, learning tumbling tricks and how to work as a team. In the centre of the Bull Court stood the huge wooden bull created by Daedalus so that Queen Pasiphae could indulge her desires, giving life to the Minotaur - her son Asterion - in the process. They practised their tricks on this, springing and leaping, learning how to grasp the horns and swing just so. Only when they were deemed competent enough at this, did they get to select their bull. These were not like the bull of Marathon, the very same that had killed Minos’ beloved Androgeus. They were bred for the dance; stupid and slow, although not so slow as to remove the thrill of the spectacle. When the teams had chosen their bull, they trained with it rather than Daedalus’ creation so that they learnt to anticipate it as much as they could. Finally, when they were deemed ready, it was time to enter the bull ring.

It was a huge wooden structure to the east of the main Palace. There were boxes for the king as well as for bull-dancers who weren’t performing. A shrine took pride of place, seats for the priestesses on either side of it. The remaining free seats were taken by the men and women of the court, flocking down in their brightly coloured multitudes. They chattered away, trading gossip and placing bets on how successful the new dancers would be.

A loud burst of horns announced the arrival of the Goddess on Earth - the young priestess with the gift of prophecy that had been chosen to fulfil the role of the Mother Goddess - her neck straining to hold up the heavy diadem on her head. She took a seat on the throne-like chair and the bull-dancers, in their little loin-guards and leather shoots laced up the calves, stepped forward.

‘Hail, Goddess! We salute you, we who are going to die. Receive the offering.’

Cal forced his lips to work around the unfamiliar syllables of the Old Cretan. They had been drilled in this, just as in their tumbling tricks. With the ritual niceties observed, they turned to the gate where their bull would make its entrance. As the gates swung open and the shape of the animal that they had chosen appeared, Cal could feel the blood thrumming in his veins.

It was time to dance.

~*~

After his first time, it didn’t take Cal long to realise that there was glory to be found in the bull ring. Of sorts. It wasn’t the glory that he had been craving, but it was better than nothing. Successful bull-dancers were lauded by the men and ladies of the court, especially the ladies. If they were impressed by your exploits in the ring, then you were bestowed with all sorts of favours. Invitations to feasts with the court. There were as many precious trinkets and baubles as you could desire. Necklaces, rings for the ears and fingers, bands for arms and wrists made of gold and stones of every colour. Clothes in jewel tones made of the finest silk for him to wear when moving around the palace compound and attending feasts. As many lovers as you could want of both sexes.

Cal accepted it all.

Why would he not? How long he lasted in the ring depended on both his skill and the will of the Gods so why would he not reap the benefits for as long as he could? Growing up in Megara and then Athens, Cal may have had royal blood and benefitted from the privileges that brought him but that did not extend to material goods. Cal had what he needed to keep up appearances, but nothing more. While Stephanos had chests overflowing with things, his sons had no such things. He saw no reason for them to have them. Cal had coveted the other princes for what they had and, now that the things were there for the taking, he was going to take.

And then came the invitations to various beds. The girls of the Bull Court were not permitted to leave the court, locked away every evening by the priestesses, but the boys and men were under no such restrictions. They could not leave the House of the Axe but were free to roam it when night fell, taking lovers where they chose.

Cal’s first offer to the bedchamber came from the younger wife of a well-known and respected General. She was earthier than the Athenian women Cal had slept with but Cal found that he quite liked that. She was obviously happy with the experience, because less than a week later, he received a return invitation. It was swiftly followed by several other ladies, a prominent lord and another general, who was not married to Cal’s first bedpartner.

What was surprising was when Cal received an invitation into the bed of not one but two members of the royal family. Princess Acacallis, sister of King Catreus, and Althaemenes, son of the King.

By this point, he had been a bull-leaper for some four months. Of those that had journeyed to Crete with him, there were only five left. Six, if you counted Cal. Five of those that had been selected had died in the ring. They had been too slow or too cocky and had either died immediately or perished later from their wounds. Three of the girls had been taken from the ring to be trainee priestesses, to dedicate their lives to the Mother Goddess.

Cal was the best dancer in the Bull Court and the stands of the bull ring were always packed when he danced. He had also built a reputation as an excellent lover, one that was now enhanced by his relationship with both the princess and the prince. Cal had been careful to foster this reputation. Many an alliance - or indeed, assassination - had been determined in the bedchamber. Cal made sure that every lover he took to bed, be they high-born or low, enjoyed themselves and left wanting more. Most importantly, he kept his ears open.

There was still no evidence of people being sacrificed to the Minotaur, but everyone spoke as though it still existed. Cal knew where the entrance the labyrinth was situated and it wasn't even guarded. The Cretans were so confident in the legend of the beast that, even with Theseus having claimed to have killed the creature, they didn't bother to set a guard. Given that the Minotaur was related to them, perhaps he would have more luck at gathering the information he desired.

To an extent, he was.

Althaemenes knew nothing. He was little more than a child who wanted to wet his cock and what better way to do that than with the most successful bull-dancer since Theseus. He claimed to know nothing about the creature in the labyrinth, or even how to locate it, but swore that the creature existed. That was what he had been told by his father, and why would the king lie? After serious consideration, Cal was inclined to believe him. The boy wasn’t stupid, but neither was he quick-witted. He was telling the truth.

Cal was more successful with the Princess Acacallis. In the aftermath of orgasm, drunk on wine and pleasure, she spoke willingly of the creature that lived in the famed labyrinth; her half-brother. She spoke of the beast that was imprisoned below the palace, the offspring of her mother's twisted desires. Acacallis had little love for Theseus, saying that the Athenian king was a man of many words, but not an honourable one as he had never lived up to them. He had claimed to kill the minotaur, yet it still existed. He had promised to marry her sister Phaedra, yet they said that he now lusted over the Amazonian queen. Theseus had also taken her older sister, Ariadne - the Goddess on Earth - to wed after coercing her to abandon her duties, but instead he had abandoned her on an island and failed to honour his actions.

What true man would trust the word of a liar?

Cal used his ability to please Acacallis as a woman, coaxing the information from her. The deft touch of his hand, the flickering of his tongue drew the location of the labyrinth from her. The information that it had been built by Daedalus and had housed the Minotaur since its birth. The rumour was that the labyrinth was impenetrable. Cal knew that wasn’t the case. Theseus may not have killed the Minotaur, but he had certainly traversed the twisting passages of the labyrinth. Daedalus and his beloved son Icarus may have died attempting to escape the court of Minos, taking the secrets with them, but Cal still knew how to negotiate his way through the twists and turns of the prison. He had the princess Ariadne to thank for that.

~*~

Cal chose his moment wisely, selecting a feast night that he was not required at and several days before he was due in the bull ring once more. He had stolen a spool of thread from the room of one of his lovers and, when the Bull Court fell silent from the night, he slipped away.

Cal made his way via the armoury, stealing a sword as he did so given that weapons were not permitted in the court. He then made his way through a series of storerooms, the first filled with sacks of grain and jugs of wine, the last few housing nothing but dust and a few broken shards of pottery. In the final room, there it was. A trapdoor set in the floor, just as the Princess Acacallis had told him. When he tried the handle of the trapdoor, it moved relatively easily, with the merest creak of the hinges, signifying that it did see relatively frequent use. Cal tied one end of the spool of thread to the handle of the trapdoor and, lighting the torch that he had brought with him, descended into the depths.

Whatever Cal had been expecting from the labyrinth, he did not find it. There were no bloodstains, no old bones. Nothing. The only things that Cal found as he traversed the twisting corridors of the labyrinth were dust and curiously childlike pictures Minoan labrys, a white bull and what looked like a chicken. Cal was getting more confused by the minute.

And then, turning one final corner, Cal reached the heart of the labyrinth and stopped dead in his tracks in shock.

Sat in the central space was something that couldn’t be further from the fearsome half-bull, half-man that the bards sang of. This was nothing more than a sad-looking man, with a bull’s head mask discarded at his feet.

“Who are you? What are you doing in the labyrinth?”

“I live here. I’m the minotaur.”

Okay, now Cal was really confused. “But you can’t be the minotaur.”

The man got to his feet, showing that he was naked, and Cal couldn’t help but admire him. He wasn’t that much taller than Cal, but broader in the chest and far more hirsute. He was hidden in the shadows but, even so, Cal could see some sort of deformity on his upper lip. It hardly made him into a hideous monster though. Cal also couldn’t help but noticed that he was very well-endowed, his cock hanging long and thick against his thigh.

“I am the minotaur! It is very rude of you to say that I am not! Who are you anyway?”

Despite the man’s belligerent tone, Cal was a little shocked to see him tear up and start sniffling.

“If you’re going to be rude, you can just leave, I don’t want you here. Go!” When Cal hesitated, he shouted even louder. “Get out of my home. Now!”

With few other options, Cal did as he was instructed and started to retrace his steps out of the labyrinth. He wanted answers though, and he’d find them.

Somehow.


	2. Chapter 2

Elias ran his fingers along the familiar bricks that made up the walls around him as he traversed the familiar passages. He knew every single nook and cranny, every dip in the brickwork. He had traversed these passages countless times over the years, more times than he cared to count. Its confines were his haven. The maze his refuge.

Daedalus’ labyrinth. Minos’ maze.

Whatever name it was called, it was the only home that Elias had ever known. It’s twists and turns had been his childhood playground and it was his sanctuary. If he had ever set foot outside its walls, then he was so young that he could not remember. He knew that a world existed beyond the labyrinth, but he had never seen it, even if he longed to.

That would never happen, he knew that. For Elias was known by another name to the outside world; the Minotaur. He didn’t know why, and he definitely preferred the name Elias, the one that Daedalus had always used for him. He didn’t really know what the name minotaur meant, but he did know that it was the reason that he was confined down here.

Alone. Always alone.

It wasn’t so bad, he supposed. He was given food and drink every few days, the items lowered down a shaft high in the ceiling in a basket. The worst thing was the loneliness. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had had human contact, someone to talk to. Really, it would make life far more bearable. Once upon a time, he had had regular human contact with Daedalus who had visited Elias regularly. It had been Daedalus who had built Elias’ home, the labyrinth, although he always referred to it as Elias’ prison instead.

Elias had never understood that. What had he done to merit being detained? What crime had he committed that had necessitated his punishment? Yet, when he had questioned Daedalus, he had always avoided answering. 

~*~

Elias hadn’t always had the run of the whole labyrinth. For the first few years of his life that he had lived in it, someone – something – had shared the space with him. Elias had never seen them – it? – but he had heard them moving around, grunts and whispers echoing through the walls. He had heard other sounds as well; crying, screaming and other noises that he didn’t understand. Those were his earliest memories. And then, all of a sudden, the noises had stopped. Elias didn’t know how much time had passed; it was hard to keep track and Elias had no real concept of time. The silence had been disconcerting.

And then he had met Daedalus for the first time.

The man hadn’t been alone. A beautiful woman had been with him. Her clothes had been beautiful, brightly coloured and showing her body off. Her skirt covered her from waist to ankle, but her bodice was cut so that it left her breasts bare, framing them so perfectly that Elias had been unable to stop staring. But then a flash had distracted him, the glitter of her diadem in the torchlight, drawing his gaze away from her naked flesh. Her arms were wreathed in more gold, spiralling snakes from shoulder to wrist, and an ornate labrys hung between her breasts. She had told him that she was Xenodice, daughter of Minos and Pasiphae, princess of Crete. She had been the one to tell Elias that he was the minotaur and that he was to wear the mask that Daedalus would create for him whenever anybody that wasn’t Daedalus came into the labyrinth. That he was a curse from the gods, the spawn of her mother’s unnatural desires, punishment for her father’s disobedience. Words that the child Elias didn’t truly fathom but that remained with him, nonetheless.

His only other interactions had been with Daedalus.

The older man had told Elias of a world that existed outside the labyrinth. He told of his son Icarus, of the princes and princesses of the court. Tales of gods and goddesses, of the people that served them. It had been Daedalus who taught Elias how to read, how to write. Daedalus who was kind enough to gift a young child with a small toy – a little carved white bull – that brought the young Elias great comfort in the dark. It was Daedalus who didn’t judge when Elias didn’t kill a live chicken that had been sent with his food, instead keeping it as a pet of sorts.

Daedalus shaped Elias’ world, such as he knew it, but Daedalus always made it clear that he was not in Crete, in the labyrinth out of choice. That he was being held by King Minos against his choice. That he had plans to leave, elaborate plans that would allow both he and his son, Icarus, freedom.

Elias had always known that, one day, Daedalus would leave him but, even so, he was not prepared for it when it happened.

 ~*~

After Daedalus left, Elias did not know how long he spent alone. His days were spent in the darkness, nothing brightening them, nothing to help him mark the passage of time. Elias did his best to entertain himself. He paced up and down the twisting passages of the labyrinth, along the corridors that he had long since memorised. He drew images on the walls, of the little bull that Daedalus had carved for him, of the labrys that he had seen cradled between Princess Xenodice’s breasts.

Most frequently, he spun fantastical tales.  He liked imagining where Daedalus had ended up. The life that he was leading with Icarus. He could only assume that their escape had been successful for the man had never returned. Elias wondered where they had made it to. Daedalus had talked of many places – Sicily, Egypt, even Persia – although he would not be returning to Athens after what had happened there before. Elias conjured images of Daedalus creating mechanical creations with which to intrigue and enrapture their courts.

And then, one day, Elias was not alone.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the labyrinth echoed with the sound of footsteps. The heavy tread echoed around its cavernous walls and Elias did what the princess had instructed, scrambling for the bull mask, slipping it over his head. Over the years, as Elias had grown, so had the mask. Daedalus had created new masks as Elias grew but, with Daedalus gone, it had been a long time since Elias had had a new mask. Daedalus had planned ahead though and, as he had created the wings that would carry himself and his son away from Crete and Minos’ hold, he had created several bulls head masks that would take Elias through his journey from teenager into man.

Elias did not like the mask. The instant that it settled over his head, resting on his shoulders, he wanted to rip it off. He could not see anything, and it was hard to breathe. It was hot as well, making him feel dizzy. The sound of footsteps grew louder but, with the mask over his head, Elias was disorientated. Then there was a loud shout. Elias could just make out that it was Greek but not the specific words. There was more shouting but, again, it was muffled and hard to make out.

Then, Elias’ world exploded.

Pain.

Searing hot. Lancing across his body once, twice, three times. He couldn’t see what was happening. He didn’t understand what was happening. All he knew was that when he placed his hand against the spot that was radiating pain, it felt tacky. Unable to remain standing, Elias crashed to his knees and, when the pain became too much for him, he surrendered to the blissful dark that enveloped him.

 (~*~)

When he had awoken, it was because the ground quaked beneath him and his beloved labyrinth creaked and groaned around him, dust falling to the floor. A sob bubbled up in Elias’ chest and he fought to suppress it.

He was still in copious amounts of pain and because it was hard to breathe in the bull mask. He pushed it off his head and struggled to see why he hurt. He felt for his side, his fingers coming away tacky and he saw that a dark red/rust liquid clung to them.

Blood. His blood.

Tears welled up in Elias’ eyes. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like seeing his blood, didn’t like the smell or the pain. Why had that man hurt him? Elias hadn’t been able to see him or speak to him, hadn’t known him but still he had hurt Elias. He didn’t understand. The tears spilled over his cheeks and he let out a loud sob. He wanted someone there to comfort him, to tell him that it would be okay. He wished for Daedalus but would accept the Princess Xenodice.

His wish had been granted.

He had never seen her again, but she visited him one more time.

She had come in the hours after Elias the man had left. The one who had caused Elias’ world to explode in pain and spilled blood and crowed over it. Elias had not seen her, but he had recognised her voice with its musical lilt. She had made him wear the mask but had left him potions that took away the pain, had wiped away the blood and bandaged his wounds with kind, deft hands. She had talked while she worked, words that Elias understood but couldn’t quite comprehend the meaning of. Talk of Athenian princelings, the death of the King and how the earth quaked, how the gods must be angry. One thing was made very clear though; Elias was to remain in the labyrinth.

And so, he had remained.

Alone once more.

 ~*~

When Elias heard the heavy tread of footsteps on the stone floor of the labyrinth once more, his pulse immediately started to speed up. It might have been a long time, but he had not forgotten the sound. The last time he had heard footfall like that, it had not ended well for him. It had ended in pain and blood. Automatically, he reached for the giant bull mask that lay at his feet. He had always been instructed to wear but, once it was in his grasp, he hesitated before he put it on.

Elias was tired.

So tired.

He was tired of the dark and the loneliness. What would happen if he didn’t put the mask on? As the footsteps grew closer, Elias decided to take the risk, leaving the mask discarded on the floor.

He eyed the man that appeared with curiosity. Daedalus had never looked like this. Elias eyed the man, taking in the strong muscles, the jewellery that adorned him.  Gold sparkled at his earlobes, his biceps and around his neck. Around his waist was wrapped a silk of cerulean that emphasised his toned form. Elias couldn’t help but stare. He was so very different to Elias. Elias had never seen his own image, but he knew enough. This man was completely hairless on his chest as opposed to Elias’ own fur and his lips were perfect, not flawed. And then the stranger spoke with an accent that Elias had not heard before. Where was he from? Was he Cretan or had he come from across the sea like Daedalus had?

“Who are you? What are you doing in the labyrinth?”

Definitely not Cretan then - unless he was simple - for every Cretan knew that the Minotaur lived within the labyrinth. Just in case he was simple, Elias spoke slowly, as though he were conversing with a child.

“I live here. I’m the minotaur.”

The man didn't look like he understood Elias’ words, his brow furrowed as though he were confused. “But you can’t be the minotaur.”

Elias got to his feet, not caring in the slightest that he was naked. He couldn't remember the last time that he had worn clothes. He had a blanket for when the weather became cold, but otherwise wore nothing but his skin. As he got to his feet, rising to his full height, Elias was very aware of the way that the man's eyes swept over him. Elias may be hidden in the shadows - he had left off the mask but the habits of lifetime to hide away were hard to break - but his form was still discernible, even in the shadows. He watched as the man's gaze roamed over him in a way that almost seemed approving. Elias couldn't discern the exact colour of the man's eyes, but he saw how they roved over his chest, lingering on his quiescent cock and pride swelled his chest.

And then the man's words registered. He had said that Elias could not be the minotaur. How dare he! Elias’ pride dissolved into anger.

“I am the minotaur! It is very rude of you to say that I am not! Who are you anyway?”

The man wasn't moving. He was just stood there, staring at Elias. Maybe he really was stupid. Maybe he didn't like Elias and he was going to end up hurting him like the other person. Now, Elias’ anger dissipated into hurt and upset. He wanted to stay angry and loud, but he couldn't. He could feel his eyes prick with tears and he couldn't help but sniffle.

“If you’re going to be rude, you can just leave, I don’t want you here. Go!” When the man hesitated, Elias shouted even louder, his voice breaking ever so slightly at the end. “Get out of my home. Now!”

Elias watched as the men retraced his footsteps, disappearing from Elias’ sight and then hearing until Elias was, once more, alone. Why were people always so mean to him? It was bad enough that he had to stay down here but when people did come, they were cruel? What had he done to deserve their cruelty? Was it because he was the minotaur? If it was, then that wasn't fair. It was hardly his fault that he was stuck down here, he hadn't chosen it. He wished that Daedalus hadn't left him.

As the labyrinth once more fell silent around him, Elias found that he couldn't help but wish for the man to return. He might have been rude to Elias, but perhaps rudeness was preferable to solitude?

Elias thought back to the stranger. Pictured him in his head. Elias had liked the way that he looked. He was pretty, his beauty enhanced with the gold of the jewellery and the way that the colour of his wrap matched his eyes, or at least Elias thought it did. He wondered how that hairless chest would feel under his fingers. As he thought and envisaged all of those things, Elias felt the organ between his legs start to stir, clearly showing an interest in the direction that his thoughts were taking. It did this frequently, swelling until it was hard and aching, so that Elias was only able to get relief when he stroked it until it spurted a whitish fluid from the tip.

Taking his shaft in hand, Elias stroked it as he imagined his stranger. Elias wondered what it might feel to have his hand on him, rather than his own. To have somebody else stroking him. Previously, it had often taken him a while to find release, stroking himself to the point where his skin had been almost rubbed raw and tears streamed from his eyes. Now, it was the opposite. It didn’t take more than a few strokes before the euphoria of release washed over him, sparks dancing in his gaze. Elias brought his hand up to his lips, sticking his tongue out to taste the fluid. The instant that he made contact, Elias was rearing back and spluttering as he tried to rid his tongue of the bitter taste. It wasn’t good, he didn’t like it.

Wiping his hand in the dust, Elias went to find some wine. As he drank it, he couldn’t help but wonder if this happened to the stranger. Assuming that he had the same anatomy as Elias, did he get hard as well? Did he pleasure himself? If he did, would his fluid have the same bitter taste as Elias’?

What was the point of his wondering though? He had shouted at the man to leave. Told him to get out of Elias’ home. Then again, he may have listened to Elias and left, but who was to say that he would stay gone? Perhaps the stranger might come back? Perhaps Elias hadn't scared him too much. He might have been angry because the man – whoever he was – had said that he was not the minotaur, but he was curious, intrigued. He wanted to know more about this man, about the world that he came from.

And, in the dark of the labyrinth, Elias experienced an emotion that he hadn’t felt before. 

Hope.


	3. Chapter 3

After he had retreated from the labyrinth, Cal couldn’t stop thinking about the man that he had met in the labyrinth. He didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew one thing for certain; the Cretans were lying. The tales that they had heard of the Minotaur, tales that they had grown up on, had nightmares about … none of them were true. Admittedly, Cal hadn’t explored the whole labyrinth, but there had been little signs of anyone - anything - down there except for the creature that he had seen. There had been no bull, no beast, no monster.

There had just been a man.

Yet, that man had been so convinced that he was the Minotaur. That was what Cal couldn’t understand. Why would someone so obviously human be convinced that he was the Minotaur? Would live voluntarily in the dark beneath the palace? Unless he didn’t live down there voluntarily. Perhaps he was forced to live there. But then that raised other questions; what had he done to warrant being imprisoned? Those who had betrayed kings or dishonoured the gods were often killed outright, not imprisoned.

This man must have done something truly terrible to warrant his sentence. Cal just had to figure out what it was. 

(~*~)

That was apparently easier said than done.

Cal couldn’t be too overt in trying to get information, he had to be careful. The others in the Bull Court knew nothing more than the stories that they had been raised with, so he wasn’t going to get anything from them. The slave girls quavered and whimpered at the mere mention of the labyrinth and the Minotaur. Althaemenes knew nothing. His father had told him that there was a beast in the labyrinth and that was good enough for him; he didn’t know what the creature looked like or what it had done, it simply existed. Cal wasn’t so sure about his other lovers, whether they would have the information that he wanted and whether they would give it to him. Neither did he know if they would report his questioning to the King. Cal had only seen King Catreus from a distance, but he doubted that the man would be delighted to hear that one of the bull-dancers was asking questions about the Minotaur. That left him with one option; the Princess Acacallis.

Once again, Cal ensured that the princess was drunk on wine and pleasure before he started questioning her.

Yet, despite his best efforts, she was unable to tell him anything more than she already had. Acacallis was insistent that the monster hidden in the bowels of the palace was the twisted offspring of her mother’s infatuation with a beast. Had she known anything else, she was loose lipped enough that she would have divulged it.

There was only one choice left open to him; Cal was going to have to go back into the labyrinth and speak to the beast. He was surprised to find that, if he was truthful, he wasn’t all that reluctant to return.

~*~

Cal lasted a week before he returned to the labyrinth. He was curious. He wanted to know about the man that he had met there, that lived in its twisting turns. Just as he had before, he entered via the trapdoor, using the thread to ensure that he could wend his way back home. He made his way through the passages to the centre of the labyrinth and there, sat just as before, was the man. The minotaur. The bull mask, as previously, lay discarded on the floor.

“You came back.” The creature seemed surprised.

“I did.” Cal took a few steps closer. “I realised that I don’t even know, do you have a name? Other than the minotaur?”

“My name is Elias.” The beast stood up, taking a few steps forward. “What is your name?”

“I’m Cal - Calixtus.”

He repeated it to himself several times quietly before he locked eyes with Cal. “Why did you come back, Cal? Why are you here? Your voice, it sounds the same as Daedalus’ did. Where are you from?”

“I am from Athens. I was born in Megara, but have lived in Athens for as long as I can remember. I am here because I volunteered as a tribute to Crete.”

“A tribute as what?” Elias took a step forward. “Why?”

“A bull-dancer. Tribute is demanded from my people as a blood debt for the death of Prince Androgeus. I volunteered in my brother’s stead. Whenever I am summoned, I dance in the ring, trying to survive against the bull. A spectacle for the entertainment of the Cretan court."

"Is it dangerous? Are you good?"

“Yes, it’s dangerous. You have to anticipate the bull’s movements, dance with them, avoid being gored or injured by the bull. What makes it hard is that, no matter how much you practise, you can never truly anticipate them because they are a living creature with a mind of their own. As for my skill, well, I’m the best dancer in the Bull Court at the moment.”

"I have never heard of it, but I think I should like to watch you dance. You're pretty to look at and I like bulls." The minot- Elias' voice turned wistful, "Daedalus made me a bull. A little carved wooden one. I miss him - Daedalus. He was kind to me, the only person who has ever been kind to me. Well, I suppose you have been quite kind. You came back. I didn't think you would, but I hoped. Why did you come back?"

It took Cal several minutes to respond, trying to process the everything that had been thrown at him. "I was curious. I wanted to know more about you."

"Of course, you would want to know more about me. I am a fascinating and legendary creature."

Cal couldn’t help but laugh at that, at the clear pride in Elias’ voice, the way that his chest puffed out. He may not understand why he was considered to be the Minotaur, but that didn’t matter to him. He simply was the Minotaur, that was all that mattered to him. Cal took a seat on the floor of the labyrinth, relatively close to Elias.

“Tell me more then…” 

~*~

Cal’s nightly visits to the labyrinth didn't go unnoticed.

One evening, about a month after he had started visiting Elias, he had closed the trapdoor to the labyrinth and turned to leave, when he found that he was not alone. The Princess Xenodice was waiting for him, her guards standing behind her in the shadows.

He hadn't really had any interactions with the Princess, but had seen her at feasts and as a spectator in the bull ring. She was the oldest princess in the Cretan royal family, the oldest surviving child of Minos and Pasiphae. She had never married, despite her beauty, and ruled the court of Knossos, despite the fact that the King was married.

"My lady."

"Bull dancer. You have found your way into the labyrinth."

"I have." Cal knew that he had to tread carefully here. He did not know the lady’s temperament and he did not want to betray Acacallis.

"You do not have to protect my sister. She has always been susceptible to a pretty face and bull-dancers are her favourite kind of lover. I am also perfectly well-aware of how loose lipped she can be, and she admitted to me herself that she told you how to find the entrance to the labyrinth. Acacallis would not have been able to tell you how to traverse the passages though. No, that information would have come from Ariadne via your deceiver King.

So, you have traversed the labyrinth successfully. Have you encountered the beast?"

Again, Cal chose his words carefully. It was quickly becoming clear to him that Xenodice was the one who could give him information, possibly the only person. "I have encountered someone. I do not know that I would refer to him as a beast."

"Come."

Cal had no choice; he could not refuse the princess. Not if he wanted information. Or if he wanted to live. He followed her through the palace to her private quarters, slipping inside as she dismissed her guards. She poured wine into two goblets, handing one to Cal although he waited for her to drink before he took a sip.

"What do you know of the labyrinth and the beast within, bull dancer?"

"I know that Elias believes himself to be the Minotaur, a creature that King Theseus claims to have killed. Yet, the man imprisoned in your labyrinth is nothing like the creature that the bards tell of."

"He gave you his name. Interesting. You are the first person since Theseus to discover the labyrinth and the creature that lives within. What do you wish to know?"

"Elias. Who is he? Why is he imprisoned in the labyrinth?"

"He is my brother. The twin brother of Acacallis."

Cal was shocked into silence. Elias was of royal blood. His twin sister was Cal’s lover. That didn’t make sense. There had never been any hint that there had been another child in the Cretan royal family. "What?"

"Yes. Elias was the fifth born son to Minos and Pasiphae. When he was born, his deformity was seen as a sign of disapproval from the gods as to my parent’s behaviour. Acacallis was beautiful yet Elias was disfigured; the gods unhappiness was the only explanation. My parents did not want to acknowledge his existence, but neither could they kill him. Instead, they decided to hide him away in the labyrinth.”

“But Elias is not the true Minotaur. He is not the creature that it was built to house.”

Xenodice inclined her head. “No. Daedalus had already built the labyrinth to hide my eldest brother Asterion - the true Minotaur. Asterion was borne of my mother’s twisted desire for Zeus' bull, a punishment from the gods for my father’s behaviour, and they enlisted Daedalus in their scheming. Yet, the child that she eventually birthed was no child. Not a human one. It was a monster, one with appetites for human flesh. Pasiphae suckled it for as long as possible, but when it mauled her one day then it had to be banished. For several years, we managed to keep if fed but it's appetites simply kept growing. Even with tributes from Athens and slaves from elsewhere, it was hard. Eventually, the decision was made to enlist the services of my aunt.

My father was a son of Zeus but a mortal son. My mother was immortal, the daughter of Helios and Perse. She was the sister of Aeëtes, sorcerer-king of Colchis and the Lady Circe, witch of Aiaia. My mother was the witch-queen of Crete. They had abilities beyond those of any human, skills with words and potions. The lady Circe emerged from her banishment to help my mother and, through her skills, Asterion breathed his last. Yet, there was still a need for the Minotaur. Tales of him had already spread to the known world. He gave Crete power. Why would we change that?”

“So you decided to replace one brother with another. Make Elias hide behind a mask, that I presume was made by Daedalus? I can see the logic in your decision but cannot believe you would be so cruel to a child that had done nothing more than exist.”

Xenodice snorted and drained her wine, refilling her goblet. “Yes, Daedalus made a series of masks before he made the foolish decision to try and escape from Crete. As for Elias, he is lucky that we let him live. Another royal family would have left him to be eaten or smashed him upon the rocks. Bad enough that my mother was depraved enough to lie with a beast and birth a monster, but to have a second in the family? People would talk, would say that our family was cursed. No, better to deny his existence.”

“You made a child believe that he was a monster.”

“He is a monster. There is no other explanation for his face. He may not be Asterion, but he _is_ the Minotaur and will be until the day he dies. Nothing will change that, not even the arrival of a jumped-up royal bastard. Oh yes, I know all about you, Calixtus, son of Stephanos. I know all about you. How you volunteered as tribute to save your half-brother. What made you do it? I doubt that you did it out of the goodness of your heart; you’re not that type of person. No, you saw our ship coming and realised the truth; that your vaunted King Theseus lied. You saw an opportunity to do what a king could not; kill the Minotaur. You volunteered for fame, for glory. For power.

I am here to tell you now that that will not happen. You will not kill the Minotaur. He will exist until I deem the time is right for him to die. The only fame and glory you will find is in the bull ring. Royal blood or not, that is where you will die. It may not be in your next dance, or the one after that, but you will meet your fate in the dance. You are dismissed.”

Cal nodded and left the room, returning to the bull court, shadowed by a guard all the way. Cal was no fool. He may be a bastard son but, as Xenodice had said, he had royal blood in his veins. She could not kill him herself as that could incite war with Athens, yet she had made it clear that there would be repercussions. Repercussions that she could not be blamed for; if Cal died in the bull ring, then that was ultimately his fault for volunteering. It was simply a case of when Xenodice decided to pull on the threads of Cal’s fate. He had the feeling that it would be sooner rather than later.

He was right. The following morning, Cal was summoned and informed that he had been chosen for the ring the following day.

 ~*~

“Where were you last night? And the night before. You haven’t been to see me for three days.”

The words were accusatory and said from the shadows. Cal could barely see Elias, but he could hear that he was upset from his voice. Elias was hiding from him, not wanting Cal to see his face.

“I’m sorry. I had to appear in the bull ring yesterday and then one of my lovers invited me to their bed.”

Cal didn't mention anything about his meeting with Xenodice. He didn't say that he wasn't supposed to have gone back into the bull ring yet. That he was certain that Xenodice had ordered his appearance in the hopes that the bull she chose managed to dispose of him. There had been something off with the bull, something in its eyes that had been different. Unluckily for the princess, Cal was too good, and, despite the bull’s best efforts, it was Cal who was victorious. Even so, he knew that his days in Knossos were numbered. Xenodice would not stop trying to kill him until Cal no longer returned to the Bull Court from the ring. He definitely didn't say that he knew anything about Elias' heritage, about why he was imprisoned in the labyrinth; he hadn't decided what he was going to do with that information yet.

Elias snuffled, but he took a step forward, so that he was only half-veiled in shadows. “One of your … lovers? What does that mean? What is a lover?”

"A lover is a partner in a sexual or romantic relationship outside marriage. They can be male or female."

“What do you do with them?”

“Mostly I bring them pleasure. I spend time with them, talk with them...”

“You spend time with me,” Elias hesitated before he spoke again, “bring me pleasure.”

“That is different. Yes, we talk and that may bring you pleasure but I bring sexual pleasure to my lovers. I fuck them and some of them fuck me, among other things.”

“What does that mean? Fuck?”

This was killing Cal. He had never known anyone so naive and clueless; even the virgins that he had bedded had known more than this. Althaemenes had known more than this and he was barely out of boyhood. Yet, it wasn’t a turn-off.

It was a turn-on.

“In the most basic terms, fucking is something that happens between two people. One person penetrates the other, bringing them both pleasure.”

“Will you … fuck me?”

"How do you know that you want to be fucked? Do you want me to penetrate you? To fill you with my cock.” Cal trailed his fingers between Elias’ arse cheeks. “Or would you prefer to be the one doing the penetrating?"

"There are other pleasures to be enjoyed before being fucked," Cal curled his hand around Elias' monster cock and stroked it, feeling it harden and swell immediately. "Allow me to introduce you to them first."

"What pleasures are you talking about?" Elias bucked his hips into Cal’s grip, "I have already stroked myself."

Cal’s lips curved up. "Is that so? Did you enjoy it?"

“What did you think about as you stroked yourself?”

“Ah! Uh. You!”

That little bit of information pleased Cal. “Is that so? What did you think about?”

“Ugh.H-how your hands would feel on me. How you would feel under my hands.”

“And was it anything like this?”

“N-n-no. This is better.”

“Good.” Cal meant that. He liked the fact that he had the so-called Minotaur at his mercy. That he could take the creature apart with something so simple as a hand on his cock. He wondered what that cock would feel like inside him. It was the biggest that Cal had ever seen, considerably bigger than the general’s paltry offering. It certainly wouldn’t have any problems reaching that spot inside Cal that brought him to the peak of his pleasure. Cal also couldn’t deny that the idea of being the person to teach the Minotaur about sex. Even if Elias wasn’t the true Minotaur.

It didn’t take more than a handful of strokes before Elias’ cock was swelling even more, Elias making the most delicious little huffs and grunts of pleasure, before it erupted, filling Cal’s hand with seed until it was overflowing, dripping down to the floor. Elias gave a shuddering moan which turned into a whimper as Cal brought his hand to his lips, lapping at Elias’ come.

"You, you’re… why? I didn't like the taste when I tasted mine."

Cal liked the idea of Elias tasting his own spend, his own cock twitching in interest. He liked the idea of Elias tasting Cal’s even more. "Is that so? Perhaps you will like the taste of mine better instead."

Cal pulled the fabric from where it was wrapped around his waist and straddled Elias' lap, feeling his spent cock twitch and start to swell once more. Interesting. Elias may not have the cannibalistic appetites of the original minotaur, but it would appear that he had carnal appetites to rival it instead. The possibilities had Cal’s cock hardening quickly. Cal took Elias' hand and wrapped it around his now straining cock. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Elias' in a kiss. Elias didn’t respond but, then again, Cal didn’t really expect him to. After all, if the man hadn’t known what fucking was, why would he know about kissing? He only knew about touching himself because it made him feel good. Cal persisted though, guiding Elias through the motions and coaxing him into responding, finally giving a teasing nip to Elias’ bottom lip as he guided Elias’ hand on his dick, just as he liked it.

"Let's see how quick a learner you are."


	4. Chapter 4

Elias was a quick learner.

A very quick learner. Cal had also been right about his carnal appetites. Elias might not physically be half-bull, but he definitely had the sex drive of one. His refractory period was virtually non-existent which was an experience for Cal. It certainly made a change from his other male lovers; the general not only had a small cock, but Cal was certain that he didn't know the location of Cal’s pleasure spot if, indeed, he knew of its existence. There was also the fact that he was, in essence, training Elias to be the perfect lover.

There were issues to begin with. Elias was little more than a bumbling virgin. In fact, he was worse than that; Cal had been with virgins who had more of a clue about sexual interactions than Elias. Cal even had to teach him how to kiss, his first attempts being far too wet and clumsy. The man had sat there witless when Cal had tried to introduce his tongue and so Cal had had to explain. Only, apparently, he had tried to explain it as though Elias was a stupid child, not the Minotaur, and that had precipitated sniffling and wet eyes and Cal feeling like an utter bastard.

The other problem – the biggest problem – was that Elias’ cock was on a hair trigger. The first couple of times that Cal had tried to stroke him off, Elias was coming within a handful of strokes, all but deluging them in semen. Yet, even though he had orgasmed, he was still hard; Elias really hadn’t been lying about having the virility of a bull. An example of the strange humour that the gods had.

Elias may not be a monster, but he certainly had a monster cock, and Cal was taking it as his own personal challenge to make it not only a monster cock but a fantasy one as well.

Most of it was simply down to the fact that Elias was touch starved. Other than a single visit from Theseus and his bitch of a sister Xenodice, Elias hadn’t had positive human contact since he was a child and Daedalus had left him. With every night that Cal spent down in the labyrinth, every hand job that he gave, Elias lasted longer and longer before he spilled himself. And then Cal decided to introduce his mouth to the equation.

It was back to square one.

Cal had barely more than a couple of inches of Elias’ cock in his mouth before Elias’ cock was pulsing, spilling his seed in a seemingly never-ending stream. Cal swallowed as much as he could, but he was soon choking and had to pull back, letting the rest of Elias’ orgasm spurt over his face and down his chest. He had been unable to resist swiping his fingers through the fluid, licking his fingers clean with relish and dragging a hoarse moan from Elias. He still wasn’t too fond of the taste of his own come, Elias was positively eager when it came to tasting Cal’s cock and spend. Just as with the kissing, his first attempts were too sloppy, all but saturating Cal’s cock in saliva but his riot of curls made it easy for Cal to direct his movements and instruct him on how to perfectly please Cal. The slurps and sounds of pleasure as he feasted on Cal’s cock meant that it was the quickest Cal had come in a long time.

Yet, Elias was not happy with being pleasured solely by Cal’s hand and mouth or vice versa. He wanted more. He wanted to fuck or be fucked. He wasn’t fussed which.

They started with Elias being the one penetrated. Cal snuck a jug of olive oil from the bull court and took it with him as he went down to the labyrinth. The heat and tightness of Elias around him was intense and Cal knew that it was going to be even more so when it came to him being fucked. He bottomed out inside Elias and, as soon as he did so, felt Elias convulse, coming without being touched. Yet, from previous experience, Cal knew that that didn’t mean anything when it came to Elias. And so, he continued thrusting, feeling Elias’ cock harden again as Cal continued thrusting, coming a second time as Cal reached his own climax inside of Elias.

When it came to Cal’s turn to be fucked, it was also his turn to climax embarrassingly quickly.

Elias had taken close note of everything that Cal had taught him when it came to sex and he used every scrap of knowledge to please Cal now. He may not have much experience with people, but he had grown to know Cal and he used that now, reading Cal’s reactions and responding accordingly. His fingers stretched Cal more than ever before and he knew that any other lover after Elias was going to be a disappointment. Irrespective, he had half-expected that Elias would come the instant that he got his cock anywhere near Cal’s arse, just as he had with Cal’s mouth. So, he was actually impressed when Elias managed to sheath himself completely without climaxing. Then again, the beads of sweat dripping onto Cal and the dirt beneath them was testament to just how hard Elias was trying to keep himself under control.

Cal had been right. If Elias’ fingers had felt good, his cock was perfection. It filled Cal almost to the point of pain and was long enough that he only had to make the smallest of movements before it was brushing over Cal’s pleasure spot. Unable to help himself, Cal reached back and traced around where he was spread wide around the girth of Elias’ cock.

And then Elias started to move.

He may have been a novice, but he took to it like a champion. Elias’ cock dragged in and out of Cal, moving him across the floor with every thrust. All Cal could do was hold on for the ride, canting his hips to ensure that Elias raked across his pleasure spot. When Elias finally came, it was with a roar as he filled Cal with so much come that his stomach ended up protruding. He went to stroke Cal’s cock, but there was no need; just as Elias had, Cal had come untouched.

Oh yes, they were doing this again. Just as soon as Cal could move. 

~*~

The more time that they spent together - the more they fucked - the more Cal liked the man. Oh, he could be utterly infuriating with his pride and arrogance, never mind his tendency to cry and sulk when he claimed Cal had been mean to him, but those moments were few and far between now. Then again, it was hard to have conversations when you spent all of your time fucking. Oh, they still had conversations but most of them revolved in Elias asking questions about the outside world, wanting to know about Cal’s life in Athens, about Crete. Cal answered as honestly as he can and, in the process, came to a realisation that he had never expected to.

He wanted a future with Elias.

And a future that did not involve the labyrinth or the bull ring.

The only problem was, Xenodice had not given up on her attempts to get Cal killed in the bull ring. He was being summoned more and more frequently and, every single time, there was something not quite right. In the last moon Cal had appeared in the bull ring than he first three moons in Crete. There had also been more close calls and minor injuries. He was going to have to come up with something soon because he had absolutely no intention of his body becoming part of the soil of Crete.

It was going to have to be something that would mean Cal could take Elias with him. He had grown fond of the man, even if he exasperated him at time. Cal wasn't sure if he would call it love - he wasn't sure if he was capable of that - but it was something approaching it.

Which, in actuality, left Cal with two problems. Firstly, how to leave Crete before Xenodice's machinations got him killed. Secondly, how to get Elias off the island. Killing him was hardly an option now. Yet, Cal still craved power and glory, more than he had already won in the bull ring. But, how to achieve it?

And then the idea came to him.

If killing the minotaur wasn't an option, perhaps taming him was?

 


	5. Chapter 5

Cal had decided that, rather than killing the Minotaur, it would be better to tame the Minotaur. Surely that was more impressive? Yes, it was a feat to kill a mythical creature, but to tame one? That was something else entirely.

It was easier said than done.

Actually taming the minotaur – taming Elias – was the easy bit. Far from being a monster, Elias was a sweet, biddable creature, as long as he was getting regular sex. Amazing really, what a man would do to get his cock wet. No, the hard part was figuring out how to get them off the island before Xenodice had them killed. Not only that, but figuring out where they could go once they escaped Crete. They would not be welcomed back to Athens after Cal had proved that Theseus’ claims of slaying the minotaur had no truth to them.

There was one other issue, perhaps the first that needed to be dealt with; Cal was going to have to persuade Elias to leave the labyrinth and come with him. To do that, Cal was going to have to tell Elias the truth about his history. He was going to have to relate everything that he knew, everything that Xenodice had told him. It wasn’t going to go well. In fact, Cal was pretty certain that catastrophic wouldn’t be that far off the mark. Elias had spent his whole life convinced that he was the Minotaur and now Cal had to break it to him that, not only was Elias not the Minotaur now, but he had never been the fabled beast of legend. Cal wasn’t even sure that sex would soften the blow.

Where did he even start?

The first thing that Cal had to do - before he spoke to Elias - perhaps the most important thing was to stay alive.

Xenodice hadn’t eased up in her efforts to get him killed in the bull ring. In fact, she was so desperate to see him killed and everything as she desired, that her attempts to kill him were no longer limited to the bull ring. Oh, she hadn’t desisted there, from drugged bulls to sabotage with Cal’s equipment. However, Xenodice had also enlisted Cal’s lovers in an attempt to kill him, even invading the sanctity of the bull court. Not even her own sister and nephew were exempt. The attempts by Acacallis and Althaemenes were amongst the most feeble, as Cal had almost expected. They, and the rest of Cal’s lovers, had tried multiple forms of assassination. Murdering him in their beds as he recovered from orgasm, poisoning his food and his drink. 

When that failed, Xenodice turned to the family arts, using sorcery to try and kill him. Luckily for Cal, Xenodice's skills at sorcery were nowhere her aunt Circe’s and even paled in comparison to her mother's. He had to imagine it would be galling for her, to be the niece of the legendary Circe but be unable to kill a mortal, but it was for the best where his survival was concerned. 

After all, her mediocre sorcery skills meant that he was alive.

There was one other good thing that came of Xenodice's inability to kill Cal; it fuelled her anger, her hatred of both Cal and Elias. Anger was tricky. Dangerous. It had to be dealt with correctly. Whether it was a help or a hindrance balanced on a knife edge. Warriors knew this. Cal knew this from his own battles with the emotion. If it was channelled correctly, kept tightly leashed - controlled - then it could give you a lethal edge, sharpening everything. However, if you let the anger control you? Well, that was when you got sloppy. Made mistakes. Gave away any upper edge that you had. Your victory, if you were truly sloppy.

If Cal was careful, if he was lucky, then Xenodice would fall into the latter category. From his previous interactions with her, he was confident that she would. She was so consumed with her need for Elias to remain the Minotaur that it would supersede her rational thought. She would let her anger rule her, clouding her decisions and that was when Cal would strike. When he and Elias would make their bid for freedom.

Well, they would if Elias was still talking to Cal by then.

(~*~)

It had been a long time since Cal had been able to make it down to the labyrinth. Xenodice hadn't restrained herself to attempting to kill Cal, she had also stationed double guards on the main entrance to the labyrinth. She didn't want Cal to have any opportunity to tell Elias about his true heritage. However, as she had done many times before, Xenodice had underestimated Cal. There was one other entrance into the labyrinth. The shaft that had been used to lower food and drink down to Elias from the very start of his incarceration. It was a tiny space, one that - in truth - could barely hold a basket, and it was probably for that reason that Xenodice had overlooked it. It was a struggle, particularly when it came to Cal’s shoulders, but Cal persisted. He had to persist because this was the only way that he would be able to get to Elias. Indeed, by the time that he made it down the shaft and onto the floor of the labyrinth, his body ached almost as much as it did after an afternoon in the bull ring and it felt as though he had grazed at least the top two layers of skin from his shoulders. And, to make it worse, he was greeted by a petulant and angry Elias.

“So, you have remembered me, after all?”

Elias’ voice sounded rough and scratchy. He’d been crying, a lot. Cal regretted the fact that he hadn’t been able to get a message to Elias, to try and explain why he couldn’t get down to the labyrinth. Then again, even if that had been possible, would Elias even have been able to read the message?

“I’m sorry, Elias.”

“Sorry for what? That you realised I’m a monster after all and wanted to stay as far away as possible. Why did you come back at all? To make fun of me? To hurt me? If it is, well, you can just leave right now.”

The tone of his voice, full of bluster and forced pride, reminded Cal so much of that first encounter that it made his chest ache. Even more so, because he knew that what he was going to say, what he had to say, was going to make things even worse. He just hoped that, at the end of this, he hadn’t lost the only person that he had ever truly come to care about. 

In truth, Cal had never really cared about anyone before Elias. He’d never really cared about his father, and Stephanos certainly hadn’t given a damn about Cal. The relationship between Cal and his brother, Eladio, had always been mercurial at best. They had always been fierce rivals and, in truth, there had never really been any love lost between them. And then there was Sirena. Cal had thought that he loved her but, in truth, Cal wondered now if he ever had or if Sirena had simply been something else that he could have beaten his brother at. He would never have come to that realisation had it not been for Elias.

Elias.

Elias. Son of King Minos and Queen Pasiphae. Brother of Asterion, the true Minotaur. Elias, who believed that _he_ was the Minotaur. Elias, who had been lied to his whole life, by his family. Elias, with his strange, childlike way of thinking and acting, his petulance, his ridiculous pride, his deformity and his massive cock. The way that he could go from shouting to crying in the space of seconds. The way that refused to even countenance talk that he wasn’t the Minotaur. How, even though he had been a bumbling virgin, he now fucked like a dream, just how Cal liked it.

Elias. The man who, if Cal was wholly truthful, was the first person that Cal had ever loved.

And wasn’t that terrifying.

Cal had bedded more than his fair share of aristocratic women. Daughters of Theseus' favoured generals, women of well born families, a number of princesses. Sirena. Yet, not one of them had elicited the same feelings from him that Elias did. Beautiful women who carried the bloodlines of kings compared to a disfigured man who, while the son of a king, had no concept of the outside world. There was no comparison for Cal. He had thought he loved them, but he hadn't truly loved until he met Elias. The irony was not lost on Cal.

"I understand that you're hurt and angry, Elias. I'm sorry that I couldn't get word to you." They were some of the hardest words that Cal had ever had to utter; he never had been good at admitting fault and apologising. "I wanted to come to you but I was prevented. By your sister."

"My sister? You lie. I do not have a sister; I am the Minotaur."

Cal had been prepared for this but it didn't make it any easier. “Do you remember the beautiful woman who has visited you on occasion? That is the Princess Xenodice. Your older sister. You are a Prince, Elias. You are the fifth born son of King Minos of Crete and his Queen, Pasiphae, the Witch-Queen herself. Your older brother - Asterion - was the Minotaur. Not you.”

“NO! No, no, no. Of course, I am the Minotaur. How can I not be? I have told you this before. I thought you believed me. Why would I lie?"

Again, all of this was expected. Elias believed himself to be the Minotaur and had done ever since that meeting with Xenodice. It was going to take a lot of work to convince him otherwise. Thankfully, Cal had been prepared for that. He was going to have to tread carefully. Luckily, a lifetime of living with Stephanos and Eladio meant that he had plenty of practice.

"I'm not saying that you are lying, Elias. I am suggesting that you have been lied to. The Lady Xenodice, princess of Crete and aunt to the current King - your sister - is the one who has woven a web so tangled that her sister Ariadne would be proud. She is the one who lied to you, who told you that you are the Minotaur. The true Minotaur was your older brother Asterion.

You told me once that, when you were a very young child, you could hear noises elsewhere in the labyrinth. Noises that made you believe you weren't alone. Those noises that you heard were Asterion indulging in his appetites. His cannibalistic appetites."

That gained Elias' attention. "Cannibalistic? He was eating…"

"People?" Cal nodded. "Yes. You were both cursed by the Gods, but you to a lesser extent. Asterion was half-bull, half-man with cannibalistic tendencies. You were fully human but slightly deformed and with the sexual appetite of a bull. Rather than admit to a second child cursed by the Gods, your parents chose to lock you away. Your parents started collecting a tithe from other states in an attempt to satiate Asterion's hunger for human flesh. When it wasn't enough and his desires merely continued to grow, they decided that further action needed to be taken. Your aunt is the Lady Circe of Aiaia, the same witch who enchanted Odysseus himself. She poisoned Asterion and ensured his death via her skills. It was then the decision of your sister, Xenodice, that there was still a need for the Minotaur. Whether as a show of Crete's strength or something else, who knows. She chose you. It made sense. You had been locked away and no-one knew of your existence; you were the obvious choice to become the Minotaur. So, yes, you are the Minotaur but also, you aren't. Does that make sense?"

"Of course it makes sense. I'm not stupid, Cal."

"I never said you were, Elias. I just want you to understand. Not just this, but the implications."

"What implications could there be?"

"Xenodice will never let you go. Not while you remain useful to her. Once you have lost that, you will find yourself scrabbling to stay alive. Either she - or the Minotaur - needs to be taken care of. The easiest option is you."

"You want to kill me? Cal!"

“Your sister does not have such compunctions when it comes to us! She would have you imprisoned here forever, until you did. As far as I’m concerned, she’s been trying to kill me for months. Ever since she discovered that I knew of your existence. Xenodice wants you to remain here. She wants the world to believe that the Minotaur exists and she is willing to sacrifice you in order to do that. And no, I don’t want to kill you. I want to leave Crete _with you_.”

Elias had lost his initial proud, angry posture. Rather than the puffed up manner that he favoured, he was almost hunched over. Defeated. When he spoke, his voice was small and almost anxious.

“Is that really why you didn’t come? Because she was stopping you? You’re telling the truth?”

“Of course, I’m telling the truth Elias. Why wouldn’t I be? Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with the man that I love?”

“You love me?” Elias’ voice was full of wonder. And then he spoke again, back to his usual bluster. “Well, of course you love me. I mean, why wouldn’t you? I’m a very loveable person. And even if I wasn’t born the Minotaur, I am the Minotaur really. And who wouldn’t want to be in love with the Minotaur? Yes, I’ll leave with you.”

Cal’s laugh was a little wet, but that went unnoticed by Elias, who was already stripping. “If you’re in love with me, can we have sex now? This whole situation has been very aggravating and my hand is nowhere near as satisfying as you are.”

“Well, I’m glad to know that I’m good for something.” Sarcasm was lost on Elias though and he simply looked at Cal with a befuddled expression, although he would deny it. “Yes, we can have sex.” 

In truth, it would be more than pleasurable to have sex with someone whom he not only had feelings for but, who wasn’t actively trying to kill him.

Besides, Elias’ cock could never be a disappointment.

~*~

With Elias finally knowing the truth about his heritage and fully onboard with Cal’s plan to leave Crete, all that was left for Cal to do was to actually come up with a plan to leave Crete. Xenodice wasn’t going to make it easy for them, that was without question. However, if it came down to eliminating Xenodice? Well, Cal didn’t have any problems with that. What he did need was a way to avoid her guards for long enough to get off the island.

It wasn’t impossible.

It couldn’t be. Theseus had done it. Cal may not have the divine blood in his veins that Theseus claimed but that didn’t mean he was incapable of similar feats. He just had to plan carefully. Cal had always had a strategic mind, he just needed to apply it to the situation. He started by remembering everything that he had overheard in Athens about Theseus’ escape and flight back to Attica. From what he could remember, much was made of the fact that Theseus could sense when the earth was going to quake, something that he attributed to the blood that he shared with Poseidon. Theseus had used one of the large quakes as a distraction and, as the palace crumbled, had made his escape. Cal may not have the talent of premonition, but he had felt the quakes himself during his time in Crete and while they would not constitute the whole plan, it was a start.

In truth, Elias had taken the whole thing far better than Cal had thought he would. The sex had placated him of course, but Elias had also been mollified by the fact that, while he may not be the true Minotaur by birth, he was the Minotaur. There was also the prospect of seeing the world beyond the labyrinth, the world that Daedalus had told him of. He hadn’t been quite as amenable to the news that any visits from Cal were going to be few and far between until the time came for them to make their move. Cal had explained - multiple times - that they didn’t want to draw attention to them, didn’t want to alert Xenodice to the possibility that they were up to something but it didn’t seem to make the slightest bit of difference. In the end, Cal just gave up repeating himself. Elias was much better than when Cal had first stumbled over him but he was still the most stubborn person that Cal had ever met and this was clearly not something that Elias could comprehend. Cal would just have to hope that Elias would forgive him in the end.

There were more near misses in the bull ring during Cal’s final month than there had been in his whole time as a bull leaper. Xenodice and Cal’s lovers hadn’t stopped their efforts to have him killed and Cal’s mind was so focused on how to facilitate an escape that their efforts were almost successful. Yet, their success gave Cal the idea for his escape. In order to get off Crete with Elias in tow, Cal needed people to believe that the Minotaur was dead. He was under no illusion that he would be able to convince Xenodice, but that didn’t really worry him. What he was banking on, was the fact that Daedalus would help him get away from the island

Over the months that Cal had been on Crete, he had learned that, when the earth quaked, there were often several smaller quakes before a larger one. So, when there had been two smaller quakes, Cal decided to make his move. He made his way past the guards and into the labyrinth via the secret entrance. Once there, he demanded the bulls head that Daedalus had once created for Elias. As Elias watched in horror, Cal made several cuts on his own body followed by one on Elias’, daubing the bottom of the mask with the resultant blood. 

He didn’t have to wait long.

When the large quake struck, Cal emerged from the labyrinth, holding the mask before him, blood dripping from it. People only noticed the bloodied head, none of them paying attention to Elias trailing behind him. It wasn’t hard for Cal to convince people that the item he carried was the head of the Minotaur; most people were worried enough about the quake and paid no attention to anything else. A few noticed and stopped, staring with a mix of curiosity and fear at Elias. Yet, to Cal’s amazement, he was able to make it all the way from the labyrinth to the docks with Elias trailing in his wake; apparently, the bloodied bulls head was a big incentive. It got them all the way onto a boat as the local Cretans scattered in fear and the Royal guards raced for the palace.

Even as the shores of Heraklion disappeared into the distance behind them, Cal still felt his pulse race and his breath catch in his throat. He and Elias may have made it off the island but Cal knew that he would not be able to let his guard down until they had made it to the destination that he had chosen for them. Only then would he know that they were safe.

~*~

Dry land. At last. Cal had honestly wondered if they would ever make it.

Cal watched as Elias went to his knees on the beach, petting the baby goats that frolicked on the sand gently. This wasn’t exactly what he had envisioned, but he could hardly begrudge his lover. Elias had been like a wide-eyed child on the journey from Crete, laughing at the dolphins that swam alongside the boat and flinching back when the sea spray hit his face. He had marvelled at the sensation of the sea breeze on his skin and the beauty of the sun setting - and rising - over the Aegean. Indeed, Cal had seen more cynical children. It had been both endearing and sad, although not entirely surprising. After all, until Cal had discovered the labyrinth, Elias had gone without true human contact for years.

That would change, however. This was an opportunity for a new life for both of them. A life free from political machinations and the fear of assassination. Well, at least until Cal decided to resurrect his plans for power and glory. 

They had travelled past Naxos on their journey, Cal refusing to stop given the tales that he had heard of the Princess Ariadne and Dionysus. Instead, he had chosen to break their journey at Ios and Paros, both islands nestled within the Cyclades, but sufficiently far from Naxos that they would hopefully avoid Dionysus’ gaze. Cal may not be related to Theseus, but his father was a member of Theseus’ court and the gods were mercurial at the best of times.

Indeed, Cal had been very aware that, even if they managed to escape Crete, there was a very real possibility that they still die. Even before they had reached Naxos. There were countless dangers that lurked both in the waters and on them. Cal was just grateful that, in travelling from Crete to the destination that he had chosen, they didn’t have to risk the waters that would take them past Charybdis and Scylla. They would still have to take their chances against nature and against any other marauding ships, but that would have been the case whatever their destination.

As for their final destination, Cal had settled on Hydra. There was some civilisation there but nothing too established. It was a little too close to Piraeus, and thus Athens, for Cal’s liking but that could hardly be helped. Other islands would be either even closer to the regard of Theseus or occupied already, either by gods or kings. Hydra, on the other hand, tended to stay on the margins. There was barely any population and, thus, it managed to go unnoticed by most people, seen as beneath the notice of kings and gods alike.

While Elias played with the baby goats and exclaimed over the sensation of sand beneath his feet and waves running over his ankles, Cal’s attention was caught by a group of men approaching from over a slight hillock. They were a range of ages, all of them weathered but none of them anything approaching Cal’s level of fitness or Elias’ strength. They carried a myriad of items that, at a push, could be used as weapons; mostly items for use in farming, the odd blacksmiths tool. One of them seemed to have been appointed spokesman and he stepped forward, trying not to show his fear.

"You are Calixtus, son of Stephanos. Bull leaped and Minotaur tamer."

Cal let a smile curve his lips as he answered in the affirmative and awestruck expressions crossed the faces of all the men, even as Elias finally abandoned the goats and joined him, several of the men flinching back and looking wary as he did so. Hydra may have been all but ignored by history but, even so, tales of Cal’s exploits had still reached here.

Maybe Cal’s dreams of power and glory weren't totally lost in the mists after all.


End file.
